


Foundations

by vocal_fries, zaan



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Garak, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, New Relationship, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sub Elim Garak, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 03:11:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17716928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vocal_fries/pseuds/vocal_fries, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaan/pseuds/zaan
Summary: After all the weeks, months and years of waiting, Julian and Garak finally make it to the bedroom.





	Foundations

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Incarceration of Elim Garak](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16080845) by [zaan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaan/pseuds/zaan). 



> A sweet, sexy and smutty epilogue to The Incarceration of Elim Garak, picking up right where that work leaves off.
> 
> Our joint thanks to tinsnip for the informative work Speculative Cardassian Reproductive Xenobiology.
> 
> Note from vocal_fries: I love this series, and it was a really fun challenge to co-author a smutty interlude for it. Thanks to zaan for the opportunity to contribute to one of my very favorite takes on these two.
> 
> Note from zaan: My personal thanks to vocal_fries for kindly agreeing to write this epilogue with me. Vocal_fries is a master of sweet and smutty Garashir. I am a fan of and highly recommend their series Subtext Becomes Text 
> 
> ... and can someone please tell me to hyperlink in AO3?

The walk to Julian’s quarters from the Promenade was torturous.  Longing looks and loosely held hands escalated gleefully into whispered vulgarities and greedy eyes as each sought to unravel the other’s composure.  The moment they stepped into his quarters, Julian shoved Garak against the door.  Instantly, he found himself spun and pushed up against the wall, Garak’s breath against his ear.  “Manners, doctor,” Garak admonished with a devil’s grin.

As Garak nipped at his neck, Julian dug his fingers into Garak’s shoulder ridges, both men groaning as eager hands plied and explored.  Julian located a large and sensitive scale on Garak’s neck, biting and sucking until Garak shivered, tilting his head back shamefully in encouragement.  Julian dragged his mouth to Garak’s, Garak sucking at his tongue, begging for Julian to taste him.

Julian unraveled.  The taste and feel of Garak, his submissive abandon, ran electric through him.  Using his full strength, he turned them and slammed Garak hard into the corner. Groaning deeply, he pressed in.  He fisted the fingers of one hand in Garak’s hair, pulling back harshly as he pushed his tongue into his mouth. The other hand slipped inside Garak’s trousers to clutch at his purse.  

Garak tensed, overwhelmed at the sudden hike in intensity.  He tried to pull back but found himself trapped between the wall and Julian’s strength.  His instinct was to strike, to free himself, but this was Julian. He didn’t want to hurt Julian.  Shuddering, he shut his eyes and held his breath, holding himself rigid and unresponsive.

He was relieved when he felt Julian still and pull back.  Garak sucked in a breath and exhaled angrily, frustrated at his weakness.  Now, when he had what he’d wanted for so long.  Now, with Julian in his arms, passionate and aroused.  Julian, who was still holding him loosely, carding fingers through his hair, murmuring apologies.  “I’m all right,” Garak said, seeking to reassure him.

Julian hesitated, then kissed his temple and took half a step back.  Garak noticed with amazement -- he’d never had a human lover before -- how flushed Julian was, how red and swollen his lips were.  So beautiful, he thought.

“What’s wrong?”

Garak glanced up (and it annoyed him again that he always had to glance up) into Julian’s concerned, hazel eyes.  Garak felt him scrutinizing his face closely.  Garak didn’t know how to answer, didn’t want to answer.  He didn’t want to admit that he was on edge, fragile as thin ice stretched over a turbulent river.  The crowd at Quark’s, the worry and anxiety of the past six months (not to mention the lack of sleep) had whittled away at his reserves.  And then there was the sudden shift to freedom, more jarring than he’d expected, and the confusing prospect of somehow building a relationship with Julian looming over him, thrilling and terrifying.

Garak shook his head distractedly.  “I’m fine,” he insisted.

Julian cupped Garak’s face with one hand and pressed a kiss to his chufa.  Garak purred at the unexpected and affectionate touch. Julian smiled and caught his hand, raising it to his lips.  He kissed the knuckles, looking tenderly at Garak as he did so. Garak huffed. Pleased with himself, Julian turned his hand and kissed his palm, then trailed slow, delicate kisses up his wrist, eyes locked all the while.

Julian started walking backward towards the sofa, tugging on Garak’s hand.  “Come here. I want to try something. It’s another relaxation technique, from Earth.  I think it might be helpful.”

Garak raised an eye ridge.  “Now?”

Julian grinned.  “Aren’t you always ragging on me to take my time, savour things more?”  Julian sat back against one end of the sofa. “Come on, lay down and put your head in my lap.”

Garak raised the eye ridge even higher.  Julian rolled his eyes. “That is not what I meant,” he laughed.  “Now come on.”

Garak sighed theatrically and complied, stretching himself out on the sofa, head in Julian’s lap.  Julian placed his hands lightly on either side of his head. Garak looked up. “What do I do?”

“Nothing. Just close your eyes and lie still.”  Garak closed his eyes but, curious and fidgety, he  opened them a second later. Julian reprimanded him with a gentle tap on his nose.  “I said close your eyes. Good. Now, take a deep breath, then release it slowly.” Julian’s voice was soft and soothing.

Garak did as he was told.  As he exhaled, he sensed rather than felt Julian’s hands; the movements were small and subtle, the pressure almost too light to register.

“It’s called craniosacral therapy,” Julian explained.  “There’s a whole science behind it, but the very short explanation is that the strategic application of light pressure, mostly to the head and neck, positively influences the pressure and circulation of the cerebrospinal fluid.  It’s used for a host of reasons, but mainly and most importantly, it helps the body return to homeostasis.”

As Garak focused on the gentle touch, he felt his breathing become easy, level.  Julian fell silent, and Garak revelled in the comforting quiet between them. The only sounds were the soft rustle of fingertips in his hair and the soothing rhythm of their breathing.

It seemed to Garak that the touch and movements began to feel more pronounced, more defined somehow, and yet not.  “Are you applying more pressure?” he asked after a few minutes, glancing up curiously.

Julian smiled slightly.  “No, but this technique sometimes helps people who’ve dissociated to be able to re-integrate into their bodies.  I believe a greater awareness of the pressure and movement often results from that process of integration.”

Garak mulled that over.  He didn’t answer, but instead closed his eyes.  He could keep them closed now without effort. He took a long, deep breath and exhaled slowly, monitoring the effects on his body.  His heart rate had decreased. The tightness in his chest and shoulders had lessened. His anxiety had quieted. Even the voice in his head, Tain’s voice, that was forever digging into him like a thorn in a shoe, had faded to a distant, mocking laughter at the folly of love and sentiment.  Garak allowed himself another deep, full breath, focusing on the exhale, of the feel of the air passing through his lips, consciously banishing the last echoes of Tain’s laughter.

Garak opened his eyes and smiled up at Julian, who smiled back, hazel eyes warm.  Stilling his hands without removing them, Julian leaned over and dropped a gentle, upside-down kiss on Garak’s lips.  Shimmering heat spread slowly through Garak’s body.

Sitting up again, Julian continued the small movements of his palms and fingertips.  He held Garak’s gaze. “The whole time I was on Risa, I couldn’t wait to come back here and see you. It feels absolutely incredible to come home to you.”  Julian smiled. “My beautiful, sexy, irritating Cardassian.”

Garak smiled lazily.  “And you, my beautiful, smug doctor.”  He floated, letting the sensation of Julian’s gentle touch support him.

Garak was unsure how much time had passed when Julian spoke again.  “How was that?” Julian’s hands had stilled and now rested lightly on Garak’s shoulders.

Garak opened his eyes.  “Mmmm. Nice,” he said, very quietly.  “Like I’m … lighter somehow.” He felt happier than he had in years.  Perhaps happier than he’d ever been.

Julian ran a hand through Garak’s hair.  “It’s nice, relaxing with you like this. Actually relaxing, because I’m not holding anything back.”  

“What would you be doing differently if I didn’t know?” Garak asked curiously.

Julian made a thoughtful face as he idly ran his fingers along the neckline of Garak’s shirt.  “Mmmm, well, I’m always careful what I say and how I appear, for one thing - though obviously that’s less of a problem in this type of situation.  I can’t use my full strength, which I know is necessary, but it’s also distracting. And limiting -- I like it a little rough, sometimes. ”

Garak grinned up at Julian.  “How positively Cardassian of you.  I look forward to seeing how strong you actually are.”

Julian’s face assumed a look of sly surprise.  “Oh?”

“Mmm,” Garak purred, stretching lazily.  “A popular theme in Cardassian erotic literature involves wrestling.  I’d be interested in testing your limits in such a … creative way.”

A flush rose in Julian’s face.  “You don’t say.” He looked at Garak with heated eyes, then licked his lips.  “You’ll have to loan me some of that literature. But for right now, maybe something a little more … subdued?”  Julian leaned over again, Garak opening his mouth in eager welcome. When Julian’s tongue slipped between his lips, he felt a surge of arousal shoot through him, settling heavy and warm between his legs.  His ajan pulsed as the kiss deepened. Julian was slightly breathless when he pulled away. “Bedroom?” he panted hopefully.

Garak kissed Julian for a long moment, savouring the anticipation before answering.  “Yesss,” he hissed, sliding off the couch and dragging Julian to his feet, only for Julian to drag him to the bedroom.

“You don’t always keep your quarters this warm, do you?” Garak asked as Julian began tugging ineffectually at his shirt.

“Having you over tonight was part of the plan.  I may have tampered with the climate controls to make sure you were comfortable.”  He grinned suddenly as a pun occurred to him. “I didn’t want you to get cold feet.”

“Really, Julian?  It’s a good thing it’s not your sense of humour I’m attracted to.”

“As long as you’re attracted to me, I can live with it.”  Julian looked down at Garak’s shirt in exasperation. “Good grief, is this thing glued on?”

“In a hurry, are we?”

“Come onnnn, Garak,” he whined playfully.  “I’ve literally been waiting years to see you naked.  Seeing all of that flesh on Risa -- none of it nice and scaly and grey -- was torture.  All I could think of was you.”

“The thrill of imagination rarely survives the harsh light of reality, my dear.”

“Garak,” Bashir warned, voice stern but playful, “don’t be ridiculous - and help me with this damn shirt.”  Following Garak’s fingers, he began unfastening the shirt. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I want to see all of you.  Touch all of you. May I?” He unclasped the last fastener and slipped his hands inside with hungry impatience. He felt a small, nearly imperceptible tremble pass through Garak as his hands ran over his bare skin.

Garak, feeling suddenly self-conscious, gently covered Julian’s hands where they rested above his waist and pressed their foreheads together.  Julian gave him a lingering kiss and then drew back.

“I want you to touch me, too,” Julian said, pulling off his own shirt in a slow seduction.  “You don’t know how much I’ve thought about it.”

Garak, like an animal caught in bright lights, watched as Julian peeled off the rest of his clothes to stand naked before him, his skin golden and luminous.  Julian reached forward and caught the edge of Garak’s shirt in his outstretched fingers, asking permission with his eyes. Garak nodded. Julian reverently removed the shirt, and then, with Garak’s encouragement, the thick thermal undershirt, pants, and undergarments.

Julian sucked in his breath, letting it out in slow wonder.  He had seen very little of Garak’s body before. Garak dressed modestly, and even when he’d been forced to let Julian care for him in the infirmary, most procedures didn’t necessitate the removal of clothing.  Moreover, the professional in him had compartmentalised any little bits of Garak he had glimpsed into a discrete, desexualized set of impressions unrelated to the startling beauty he saw before him now.

Heavy ridges contoured most of the major planes and curves of Garak’s body, creating an outline filled in by muscles and scales in an array of sizes and textures.  The most vulnerable areas were covered with only a fine microscaling that Julian almost mistook for unadorned skin. Subtle hints of blue, purple, and black gleamed within the grey.

Julian tore his eyes from Garak’s chest, meeting the Cardassian’s gaze.  “My god, Elim. You’re stunning,” he whispered.

Garak watched Julian with wide, awestruck eyes.  He took half a step closer, grasping Julian by the waist.  A cool hand ran up Julian’s arm and back down his chest and belly.  “Julian,” Garak breathed softly. “You are … so indescribably lovely.”  Garak rubbed his thumbs in circles over the smooth skin, marvelling at the texture.  

Julian’s hands and eyes began an exploration of Garak’s body, of its dips and peaks, its crags and smooth hollows.  Suddenly, however, as Julian’s eyes and fingers traced the ridges and curves of Garak’s torso, patterns came into sharp focus.  Lines of faint and mostly-healed scars criss-crossed his frame in heart-breaking numbers. Neat rows of small, precise cuts. Larger burns with hazy, irregular outlines.  Clusters of dots that may have been punctures. Jagged bolts of lightning where dull implements had torn flesh more than cut it. The older scars, some surely stemming from childhood, were an unearthly lavender-grey, pale ghosts of the original wounds.   

He’d known Garak had injured himself physically to escape the psychological torture of incarceration, had suspected he’d done it as a child.  He’d known about Garak’s past, or enough of it to guess at the stories etched into his body, but this, seeing it like this, all at once, not on a patient, but on his lover … a confused tumble of emotions fought their way to his consciousness: a heavy anger and despairing sadness for wounds too old to heal.  He gripped Garak’s shoulders and pressed their foreheads close. Julian felt himself shaking.

Garak ran light hands up and down his flank.  “Julian,” he said softly. “It’s all right. It’s just … a lifetime of bad choices.”

Julian shook his head, not looking up.  “Not all of them were choices.”

“No.  But they don't hurt me anymore.  Not with you.”

Julian took a deep breath and centred himself on the lie proffered for his own peace of mind.  He didn’t want to make this about him, about his pain on Garak’s behalf. He nodded, pulling Garak into a firmly protective embrace.  He would make things better.

Slowly, he began again to explore Garak’s body, this time focusing on the scars, starting with the the large scar slanting across Garak’s chest, tracing it with his fingers.  He leaned in and kissed it, following the trail of it with his lips. Gently, he nudged Garak backwards, guiding him down onto the bed. He began his campaign then, painting over the lines of scars with his hands and then his lips.  

He let Garak touch and stroke what flesh he could reach, but when he moved from his position Julian shushed him and pushed him back down.  He wanted to take care of him, pleasure him. Slowly he felt Garak relax, then tighten with a new and exciting tension. He began to make small noises, whimpers and hissing growls that sent anticipatory tremors down the length of Julian’s cock.  As teasing lips approached his pelvic ridges, Garak began to tremble and writhe beneath him, his head twisting on the pillow, the black hair disheveled and abandoned.

Julian’s heart fluttered wildly in his chest.  His restraint was rapidly disappearing. He leaned over Garak, kissing him hungrily.  Julian felt strong arms encircle him as he pushed his tongue inside Garak’s mouth. He teased a finger down Garak’s chest to his stomach to the ridge sloping down to his groin.  His fingers hesitated near the wet seam of Garak’s purse.

“Don’t,” gasped Garak.  “Don’t stop. Oh -”

This?” asked Julian, slowly slipping his finger inside.  “Is this what you want?”

Garak jerked up.  “Oh. Oh, yes.”

“Fuck.  You’re so wet.”  Julian pushed his finger in deeper, then pulled it out and added two more, thrusting back in firmly.  Garak’s hips jerked off the bed. Julian stroked his fingers in and out.

“Oh.  Oh. There.  Right there. I - Oh, guls, Julian.  No one’s … I haven’t …”

Julian gripped Garak’s hips hard, pressing his own erection against Garak’s thigh.  “Is that what you want? To feel my fat cock inside you?”

“Yes,” Garak gasped, eyes blazing.  Julian felt Garak shift slightly as he reached one hand to spread his ajan open in wanton invitation.  “Please, Julian,” Garak hissed.

Julian pushed Garak’s legs further apart and pressed his hips against the Cardassian, seeking friction even as he tried to keep up the teasing.  The head of his cock nudged against the hot, slick opening, and Julian cried out at the sudden sensation. “Oh my God, Elim. You feel so good. Fuck.”

Julian felt lightheaded with desire.  He roughly nipped one of Garak’s neck ridges, spurred on by the sharp intake of breath he received in response.  He drew back and gazed at Garak’s earnest eyes. “Elim, I want to fuck you.”

Garak’s blue eyes held an invitation and a challenge.  Julian lowered himself and pressed his aching cock inside Garak’'s blessedly wet ajan.  He moved slowly, deliberately, watching Garak closely.

The wet heat between his legs felt impossibly tight, and Julian held still, giving his lover a moment to adjust, barely able to hold himself back.  “Shit, Elim. You’re so tight, so good,” he crooned.

Garak writhed beneath him, hissing.  He rolled his hips in encouragement. “Julian.  Please. I need you,” he pleaded.

Julian groaned and thrust more deeply.  “My god, you feel amazing,” he gasped. Julian had had an array of humanoid sexual partners, but the sensation of being inside Garak was entirely new.  His ajan was self-lubricating, and the fluids were blissfully silken. Julian could feel Garak’s prUt was hard but had yet to evert. In the close space inside him, their erections slid over one another.  Julian couldn’t choke back the grunts of pleasure that erupted from his throat with each thrust.

He twisted, rolling them over, and Garak eagerly accepted the opportunity, rolling his hips in tight circles as he rode Julian’s cock.  His movements were utterly intoxicating, unlike anything Julian had felt before. Blood pounded in his ears, and the sensations short-circuited his ability to form coherent thoughts.

Garak stared down at him, vivid blue eyes filled with a raw desire edged with something more tender, affectionate.  Garak began to pant more loudly, moans and whimpers of pleasure more frequent and more desperate. Julian felt Garak tighten around him, and the Cardassian’s hips paused for a split second.  Julian looked down in time to see Garak’s prUt evert between them, a strangled cry escaping Garak’s lips. The pale gray phallus was very wide at the base, tapering slightly, gleaming with a viscous coat of fluids.  As Garak began to move again, the human gasped, feeling himself sink deeper inside Garak’s ajan. Eversion had created more space, and the base of Garak’s prUt pressed against Julian’s cock with each swivel of the Cardassian’s hips.  It was agonizing and exquisite, but he needed more.

Julian summoned his wits long enough to roll sideways, pinning Garak beneath him.  Settling between Garak’s thighs, he placed one of the man’s legs over his shoulder, leaning into it.  Garak whined his approval, continuing to move against Julian as the human’s cock pistoned hard inside him.

Phosphenes exploded in Julian’s field of vision.  He was panting in earnest now, grunts of effort melting into incoherent exclamations of ecstasy.  He grasped Garak’s prUt and stroked him, fingers curling around the engorged scales at the base. Julian thrust harder, deeper, his own joyous cries harmonizing with Garak’s increasingly wordless hisses of pleasure.  Julian’s hips snapped faster, harder, and Garak’s eyes closed as he writhed euphorically.

Every nerve in Julian’s body blazed.  The tension mounted deliciously, and he felt himself approaching an edge.  “Elim,” Julian rasped, voice ragged. “I love you.”

Garak’s eyes opened, wild and fiery blue.  “Julian. Beloved. I - ” he faltered, the final words slipping away into a cry of pure elation as his orgasm hit him.

Garak’s jubilant vocalizations coursed through Julian like a bolt of electricity.  He cried out rapturously as he came, spending inside Garak as he stroked the Cardassian through his own orgasm.

As they came down, Julian leaned down to kiss Garak, their lips meeting with a shared urgency.  Strong arms pulled him close and legs wrapped around his hips. Julian melted into Garak’s embrace.  They panted together. As they regained their breath, their kisses became languid, unhurried.

Julian felt laughter building in his throat, and he finally erupted with a belly laugh that faded to giggles.  “Sorry,” he gasped after several seconds, unable to stop.

Garak looked at him with a mix of consternation and amusement.  “Is something wrong, my dear?”

Julian could only shake his head.  He kissed Garak’s face, neck, chest, hair, hoping he seemed reassuringly repentant.  Garak stroked his shoulder affectionately.

Gradually, Julian’s laughter subsided.  He lay down, one leg still between Garak’s.  A hand traced patterns over the Cardassian’s chest and belly.  “Sorry, Elim,” Julian said sheepishly.

“Care to let me in on the joke?”  Julian was relieved to hear that Garak’s voice was playful, light.

Bashir smiled into Garak’s eyes.  “It was mostly just decompression, I think.  We’ve been waiting weeks for this, and the suspense has been -- well, worth it, but excruciating.  But as I was laughing, I realized it’s actually been years, and I started to wonder what the hell took us so long.”

Garak smiled back, eyes softer than Julian had ever seen them.  “You and me both, my dear,” he lied, thinking affectionately of humans — of Julian, in particular — and their wonderful naivety.  There were many reasons they could not have done this before, of which Tain was only the most dangerous.

Julian curled closer to Garak.  The Cardassian planted a soft kiss on Julian’s forehead.  Julian called for lights. They lay awake in the dark for a long time, exploring one another's bodies with gentle fingertips that slowed as sleep approached.  Julian felt happier -- safer -- than he ever had.

Watching Julian sleep (it would take him awhile to fall asleep with someone beside him), Garak marvelled at this new thing in his life.  He’d never had anything like this before, only brief encounters and empty solitude. It worried him, slightly, that he didn’t know what he was doing, but then he chuckled.  He was a trained operative, Julian a genius — surely they could figure this out. After all, how hard could a relationship be?

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr(@zaan-zaan) for new work notifications, random Garshir ficlets, and musings on fanfiction


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